The Wrong Dorm
by okh-eshivar
Summary: A series of stories covering Lara and Sam's first meeting and their experiences afterward, all taking place pre-Yamatai.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so.

There's a half-naked girl in my bed.

No wait, that's probably not how I should start. There's a half-naked girl passed out in my bed, and I've just gotten home from a long day at the central London Library studying up on the construction of ancient Greek aqueducts.

Let me clarify further. I do not know this girl. I don't have a dormmate and I certainly wasn't expecting company. But here she is, curled up in my purple cotton sheets and drooling on my pillow; her clothing is strewn out all over the floor, socks and high-heels and pink shorts and a space shirt that had the words 'BANG BANG' written in a sloppy white lettering.

First, I take a good look around to ensure that no, I am NOT in the wrong room, and the reason the sheets look so familiar is because they are, in fact, mine. She mumbles something in her sleep and rolls onto her stomach, quite content.

"Excuse me," I whisper, though I'm not sure why I whisper because she is in my bed. I take her shoulder in my open palm and shake her gently. "Miss? Hello?"

She snorts, short black hair tipping over onto the shaved part of her head. Grumbling, she flats her hand against my face. "Not yet," she groans in a bothered way. "Five minutes."

"Pardon?" I say incredulously. "Miss, you're in the wrong room!" My voice raises a bit in protest. "Please, ehm, please put your clothes on and get out of my bed. I'm very tired."

"Left your door open," she half-yawns, still not ready to open her eyes completely.

I nearly shout at the notion. "Just because I didn't lock my door doesn't mean you can-"

"Shhhush." she plants her fingers over my lips. They smell like citrus and rum. "Didn't know I would be here, see? Cos he doesn't know you…" She kind a giggles after a moment. "Hey, I don' know you either…" She peers out from between her long eyelashes and smirks sideways. "Hey, you're pretty hot. Just let me crash here, please?"

He? My features soften a bit, but my nerves are still rattled and my head is in a state of unrest. "I don't know who you are."

She sighs and wiggles her way to the edge of the mattress, reaching for her shorts. From them, she pulls out several loose cards and a wad of cash.

"Here," she mumbles. She passes me her driver's license, two credit cards and the bills, without counting them. I take the handful hesitantly and flip first to her ID.

Samantha Nishimura. It was the name on the cards as well. "Leverage," she groans. "Take em. In case I, don't know, steal something or whatever you think I'm gonna do."

I look back to her as she turns onto her back and squirms with the covers a bit. I feel my cheeks burn just a little. She, of course, catches the involuntary motion.

Samantha looks down at herself, then back to me. "Oh," she says quietly. "Oh, you're…" She chuckles and covers herself, eyelids fluttering a bit. She leans in closer. "Listen. There's a guy looking for me, and I really just don't feel safe being anywhere he can find me, or being alone for that matter. And I…I don't really have any friends to go to and your door was open. I figured if you weren't home at 12 in the morning, you wouldn't be back til sun-up."

I cross my arms over my chest and try my best to resist the completely innocent look she's giving me.

"I was at the library," I inform her, for no reason,

She grins cheekily. "That's really adorable, you know."

"You scared me half to death."

She frowns guiltily. "Would a kiss make up for it?"

Again, my face burns at the suggestion. She sort of spreads her bent knees apart just a tad and takes her lower lip between her teeth deliberately, hooking her fingers into the waistline of my trousers. Perhaps if I was a man, I'd have fallen for something like that.

"That's enough," I say sternly, picking her hand away from my abdomen. "You don't have to do that. You can stay the night." I don't know her, but judging from how desperate she was to remain here the night I didn't feel right sending her off.

She grins sleepily at me and lays back, muttering 'thank you's as she drifts again.

I take the couch, and in the morning she's still there, snoozing contentedly. I leave her belongings on the kitchen counter before I head off, a small part of me hoping that perhaps she'd still be there when I returned.

_The Next Night_

_Dear Hot mystery girl,_

_Thanks for lending me the bed last night ;) Believe it or not you probably saved my skin back there. Idk, I might be back tonight depending on whether or not I get any weird texts from him. Or not, haha. I guess just lock the door and I'll find another gorgeous stranger to crash with. _

_Ps: I used some of your shampoo and your eggs this morning. Hope you don't mind!_

_-Sam_

I flip the note onto its back, then turn it over again. It was around 11pm now, and anxiously I was waiting up for a knock. For a couple of hours beforehand I had actually planned on locking the door tonight. I really shouldn't be inviting trouble in through the front door.

But then I studied her looping handwriting, how she dotted the I in "mystery girl" with a heart, how she'd left the sheets of my bed messy but had washed the pan she used and propped it in the drying rack. My robe had been just slightly damp when I touched it out of curiosity; had she used it after showering even though she and I had exchanged very few words? It already felt different, this apartment, with someone else in it for just a short period of time. It felt warmer.

I fidget on my couch and peer at the clock from over the rim of my book, which I couldn't focus on to save my life. 11:30pm. Maybe I should lock the door. What if that man she's gotten it into comes about? I'm not a fan of conflict, especially on someone else's behalf. I study the note again.

The door raps softly and opens. "Hello?" That friendly voice again. "Um, anyone here?"

"Yes," I say quietly, returning the tome to its stack on the coffee table and standing. She seems more relieved than she should.

"Oh, thank god," she breathes, closing the door very quietly. She's wearing the same clothes I remember seeing scattered all over my floor last night.

"Getting into trouble again?" I retort, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Hey, it's not my fault," she shrugs. "I just attract crazy guys."

I gesture to a little white box on the kitchen counter. "I saved you some dinner, if you're interested. It's just some lo mein, but-"

"Oh my gosh," she exclaims, clapping her hands together. "You got food for me? But you didn't know if I'd even be back."

"I had a feeling you would be."

And then she's on me, arms around my neck and very close. She smells like my soap. Giggling, she proclaims, "Mystery Girl, you're the best."

"Lara," I say, cheeks red. She pulls away inquisitively. "My name is Lara."

"Lara," she grins. I feel my face burn. "Wow, that's a pretty name." She pulls away and walks to the kitchen, eagering opening the Chinese container and making gleeful sounds. She brings a plastic bag up next to the sink and opens every drawer until she finds utensils. "Ah, thank god. I feel like I haven't eaten in years. I couldn't go back to my apartment, you know. I knew he was there, waiting,"

I circle her as she eats and glance into the bag she'd brought, spotting a toothbrush and a change of clothes. "Always keep a panic bag," she says.

Can't really argue with that considering I do the same thing.

"Hey, I'm sorry," she grimaces after she finishes her meal. "For last night. I was pretty drunk when I wandered in, otherwise I wouldn't have climbing into your bed and all that."

"It's…ah, alright, suppose. Just please don't do it again if I'm left unaware. I nearly had a heart attack."

"I'll take the couch tonight, sweetie. Just…thanks for this. Really. Thank you."

I smile at her gently and bring a pillow and blanket out for her. It's not so bad, having someone else here. I suppose I can only pray that I won't wake up tomorrow and half of my belongings will be gone.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm surprised at how comfortable Sam seems in my home, especially the morning after. Again, she hasn't scurried off in the night, and she isn't embarrassed by her predicament in the least. In fact she seems quite at home on my couch, sprawled out onto all corners with one of her legs propped over the arm of the end. She sniffles in her sleep and turns to face the cushions.

I shouldn't really harbor any feelings of any kind save for perhaps confusion and irritation for this girl. But in truth, having her here has been more pleasant than not and it means that the bloke she's been hiding from can't get to her.

Quietly, I go about my morning routine, having a shower and tidying up my bed before cracking some eggs for breakfast. I break open my tabletop study folder for my first class and hang my head over it as the eggs simmer slowly on the iron pan. They were really the only thing I knew how to cook properly.

My phone buzzes from my pocket, and for a moment I consider not checking it. Unfortunately, I have a certain anxiousness for that sort of thing.

It's a calendar reminder. Ah, it's the first of the month. I'd almost forgotten. I'd have to pick up a bouquet from the corner store on my way to the campus.

"Smells good," says a sleepy voice behind me. I sprinkle in some oregano and just a pinch of chili powder, cutting into the white and yellow mass with quick swipes of a fork.

"Almost done," I hum, taking a small plate from the top shelf and dumping the contents of the hot pan into it's mouth. "There we are."

Her eye widen when I hand it to her. "Oh, uh, for me? Really?"

"I have to run soon, I have something important to do before class." I brush my hair into a loose braid and pace towards my room to gather my books. "Do you think you could lock up when you go? I wouldn't want any more strays wandering in here unannounced."

"Hey," she retorts, mouth full. "I was announced last night, you know. And I apologized!"

I chuckle at her response and pull myself into a simple singlet and a, open button down. Can't be bothered, like most days, to pretty myself.

When I return, the kitchen is perfectly clean and Sam is standing by the door with her clothes on her body rather all over my floor again. "Hey, uhm, think I could come with you? Wherever it is that you're going."

I study her, puzzled. "Why?" The word is more blunt than I'd hoped for, but it covers my point.

She crosses her arms nervously over her chest and shrugs with a fuax grin. "Don't really wanna be alone today. And you're cute as heck, why wouldn't I want to come with you?"

That does it. This girl is dangerous. I turn before she can see my red cheeks and retrieve my riding helmet from its spot in the closet.

"I only have one, but you can use it if you like."

She stares at me blankly before becoming very, scarily excited. "Oh my god, you have a motorcycle?"

"Well, it's a sports-"

"Jesus, that's so hot. Let's go!"

She heaves me out of the apartment so fast I nearly forget to lock the door behind me. Down the stairs, passed a gaggle of women gossiping in the halls about this poor chap and that and out the front gates of the building, right to my bike on the far end of the street.

"This is so cool. You're so cool," she crows, touching the rims and the seat and the handles for the clutch and brake. It's long enough for two, but just barely.

"You're sure you're comfortable riding? Have you done this before?"

"Jason has a Harley. But it's like, an old person Harley, with the big ass and the compartments and stuff." Jason. Must be the bastard that forced her into my place. She circles around to the other side and pats the leather seat. "Come on!"

I slide out of the button down and tie it tightly around my waist before offering her the black helmet again.

"No way," she laughs. "I'll mess up my hair!" I'm tempted to tell her it'll be a mess anyway, but the way she's gleaming at me makes me forget everything but getting her happy again. After a few moments of her fawning over my biceps and my trying to ignore how fantastic her touch felt, we take off. She hoots and whistles all the way to the flower shop.

"Oh," she murmurs as I pull up to the corner and kick the stand out. "The White Daisy? Are you picking up flowers or something?"

"I'll be just a moment," I say. "Just wait here."

"Who are they for?" she calls out, and I must be tired after last night because she sounds kind of ticked off and I can't figure why. I wave at her awkwardly as I push the door open.

Anaya has always been kind to me, even before she knew anything of my past or my present. I go straight to the counter and she smiles broadly at me, her dark skin beaming against the bundle of white lilies in her arms.

"Hello, Ms. Croft," she says softly.

"Good morning, Anaya." I can't help but return her sweet grin. I'd told her time and time again to call my\e Lara, but three months after our routine began I'd given up that endeavor and grown maybe even fond of the address.

I pay, she smiles again, and I take my leave.

Outside, Sam has got on quite the pout on, straddling the bike with her arms crossed, this time very stern. I kneel down next to her and unzip the long pouch in the middle of it's length and slip the lilies in gently. When I go to stand, she's leaning so far over me that I'm forced to remain on the pavement.

"What's wrong?" I question in a confused way.

She sighs exasperatedly and eyes me very close as I stand up.

"You didn't tell me you had anyone to give flowers to," she scoffs, rather cold, and rather cryptic. The noise that comes out of my mouth isn't a word but more of a confused sigh. I mount in front and as I'm about to take off she grips my waist tight and presses her mouth into the bare spot between my shoulder blades. She breathes against my skin and I nearly tip us.

There's heat all over, inside and out, and she only becomes more bold the farther we get down the street.

"Sam," I mutter at the first red light, trying my best to keep my composure together when her fingers hook into my jeans for the second time. "Sit still," is my tame response.

The gravesite is outside the city, but not too far. I nod to the attendant and he nods back, solemnly, like a man who holds hands with death. Sam stops moving.

"I, uh…" She only manages a mumble as I switch off the ignition and slip the key into my pocket. I remove the lilies, and my chest becomes heavy.

"You may stay here, if you prefer." She follows anyway, trailing behind, as I walk up to the highest point of the site. There, a single stone. It was all I could afford. Carefully, I push the old bouquet, wilted and dried, into the shade of a nearby thicket and rest the new ones in their place. I don't pray. I never do.

The girl, now nervous where she had been bold, steps to my side and stands silently for a few minutes.

"Who…?" She croaks after a while, hesitantly. I contemplate her question.

"I suppose, no one," I sigh. "But I do hope they know this place is here." A smooth breeze passes through, ruffling the tips of my bangs. She isn't willing to ask me anything else, and I thank her for it. Perhaps she's read the stone itself, in its irremovable coldness, and made a decision in her own mind.

_In Memoriam of Richard and Amelia Croft, who do not sleep here. May they be somewhere better._


End file.
